


Smudging and Crystals

by awkwardtypeos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Magic, Midterms, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5564998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardtypeos/pseuds/awkwardtypeos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiyoko Shimizu is a third year university student, but also a witch! She goes to secret magic classes alongside her regular curriculum. The night before midterms, she decides to practice her teleportation spell one more time.</p><p>Thank goodness this wasn't the midterm.</p><p>-</p><p>Based off of tumblr user paintdripps' Magic AU, “Well, this is most definitely not where I wanted to teleport, sorry for appearing in your bed at 2 in the morning” au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Midterms

Midterms suck. They will continue to suck, and possibly suck even more, from first year to graduation. This, Shimizu decided as she accidentally mixes up her notes for the fifth time that night.

Being a third year student doesn't change much. You still have to do long essays, or ridiculously hard tests. Somehow, Shimizu always passes with a B or higher, but her studying techniques are not always…the best.

Right now, papers and folders are strewn all over her dorm room floor, books piled high and several from different subjects are open, covered in messy handwriting. Her computer is struggling to upload her final paper of the week, competing against all the other students at 4 am. There’s also a considerable amount of chip bags and candy wrappers piled up around the edges of the mess, and Shimizu only has one sock on. If she had a roommate, they would have kicked her out or left months ago.

“Come on,” she hisses at her old laptop. It’s been fifteen minutes and she hasn't even been able to log into the website. Typical. She groans and pushes up her glasses, rubbing at her eyes with her other hand. “Ok, where is that bottle…”

She leans over to one side, reaching for a small dresser, and opens a drawer full of bottles and containers. Her black hair falls in her face once again, and she shoves it back into her messy bun for probably the hundredth time tonight. Shimizu dismisses any of the older bottles, the ones with cork stoppers or the metal tins rusting around their seals. A wooden box, which is defiantly not in the right place at all, is picked up carefully and placed on the floor next to her, the contents jingling softly. She finally emerges triumphant with a tiny glass vial, about the size of a shot glass, crystal clear and with a small blue label on it. It’s halfway full of bight green liquid.

“Thank the gods,” she mutters under her breath as she pusher her tan sweater up to her elbows, then unscrews the bottle. A thick white smoke, shimmering and floating, immediately comes out of the vial. Shimizu takes a deep breath of fresh air, then blows the smoke onto her laptop, effectively creating a small, shimmering cloud. She puts the stopper back on quickly, as the computer starts making a high pitched whirring noise which would normally send anyone to the hills.

In this case, that means the spell is working.

After the cloud of smoke (that vaguely smells of burning marshmallows) dissipates, Shimizu uploads her paper without a hitch. She finally powers it down with a heavy sigh.

“Ok, so bio, history, literature,” She counts off each subject on her fingers, eyes drooping. She ran out of coffee an hour ago. “And then… I have a teleportation final tomorrow!”

She wants to scream. She really does. She knows she can do it, she has done it a thousand times. But this is the last time she could test it unless she wants humans seeing her in action.

Shimizu pushes all of her papers to the unoccupied side of her room, and kicks her books with her un-socked foot along to join them. She wrenches her phone from it’s charging spot, almost ripping her cord out of the wall, and starts texting furiously.

 

> _To: Kag Hag_
> 
> _i need to practice tele rn can i plz use your room_

 

While she waits for a response, Shimizu stomps over to her desk and digs in her makeup bag. She whips out an eyeliner and her phone chimes as if in cue.

>  
> 
> _From: Kag Hag_
> 
> _go for it, floor is clear_

 

She sends a small prayer to the gods above, and grabs her keys off her bedside table, shoving them in her shorts pocket. Uncapping the eyeliner, she draws a circle on the palm of her left hand, then a star inside. She switches the pen to her other hand, and hastily scrawls Kageyama’s room number and building name on the opposing palm. She chucks the eyeliner onto her bed, closes her eyes, and takes a wide stance on the floor. Shimizu takes a few breaths, to try and calm herself, then claps her hands together with a resounding ‘smack’.

It’s as if the whole universe, all cosmic energy, is spreading from her hands, up her arms, into her chest and down her legs, sending each fiber of her being into an awakening. She hears the rushing sound of waves on a rocky cliff, seagulls, winds howling into a thunderstorm, and the bustle of city life pulsing like a heartbeat. Then, her body feels light, relaxed, and the floor drops out from beneath her.

After a brief moment of bliss, quiet harmony with the universe, the floor comes rushing back, and she fights to keep her balance. Kageyama has seen her fall upon entry several times, but she wants to, must, perfect it. it’s rather embarrassing to fall face first after preforming one of the hardest spells in the magical world.

She doesn't hear Kageyama saying hello, or the noncommittal grunt of Tsukishima. Instead, she smells coffee. Lots of it, and hears a gasp of shock. A girlish gasp, right below her.

Shimizu snaps her eyes open as if possessed (she has not been, thankfully, and it’s incredibly illegal to do so), and looks around.

This is not Kageyama’s room. This is not her room. This is not any room she has ever seen, except that it has the same basic shape as the girls floor. Above the heavy beating of her heart, she can hear another squeak from below, and she looks down.

There is a girl, blond hair pinned back by a ridiculous amount of pins and a dorky side ponytail and scrunchie. She has wide brown eyes, red at the edges, as if she was crying. There’s a book open in her lap, and several notebooks open around her. There’s also a very large and enticing mug of coffee with cat paws all over it on her side dresser, and Shimizu honestly thinks about just chugging it without a word.

“G-god is real!” the girl yelps again, and reaches forward from her bed, which Shimizu has now realized she is standing next to, latching onto her legs and sobbing loudly. Normally, she would have actually tried to have calm this girl, maybe even help her with her problems, but not today. Nope. Because Shimizu had never seen this girl anywhere in the magic program. And that meant one thing.

Kiyoko Shimizu, university witch, teleported into a random human girl’s dorm room. Said random human girl, saw her teleport with one sock on and a ratty sweater, and she is absolutely, most defiantly, screwed.

Shimizu screeches, and promptly slaps the human girl in her face.


	2. Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, as all college students say, it was time to bullshit.

The girl immediately let go of Shimizu’s legs and grasped her cheek, red from the witch’s slap, and started sobbing again.

“Why would you do that! That’s so mean!” the girl yelled, and wow, Shimizu felt like shit.

“I’m, oh, I’m so sorry!” she stuttered, “I panicked, I'm not supposed to be here, a-are you ok?”

The girl looks up at her, eyes red form fresh tears and cradling her cheek. A stray strand of blond hair falls into her eyes, free from bobby-pin jail. Shimizu tentatively reaches out, and as softly as she can, pushes the hair back being her ear. It’s studded with a small, silver star.

“You’re earrings are pretty,” she mumbles, and the girl blushes furiously.

“Ah, um thank you, but um,” she girl grumbles, “are you , um, gonna leave or, um…”

“Oh, I guess so. I’m not sure why I ended up here anyways,” Shimizu replies, and looks down at her hands, inspecting her work. The pentagram looks fine, a bit smudged along her palm lines. The other hand is probably the most shoddy casting she has ever seen. She wrote the building right, but her ‘4’ turned into a ‘9’ and her ‘5’ turned into a ‘6’, and the ink is smeared all over. She looks back at the girl, and the damn eyeliner from her incantation is on her face from the slap.

Why.

Shimizu sighs heavily, then turns to leave, taking long strides to leave the room as fast as possible. She is going to have to light the last of her candles, and meditate for who knows who long. Erasing memories was a pain in the ass, and the faster she left, the better.

“Wait, you aren’t an angel?” she says, and Shimizu stops mid step.

“Huh?” she says, kind of unattractively, but that doesn’t matter when she has smudged eyeliner on her hands in a random girl’s room and one damn sock on.

“Well, I was studying, and I couldn't get this one theory, so I prayed for help, and then you appeared,” the girl recounts, “and you were just so p-pretty, that I thought you were an angel come to help me study.”

At this rate it will take hours to remove her memory. It not only involved Shimizu appearing in this room, but the previous memory of praying. She also risked failing this girl by accidentally making her forget her studies.

 

So, as all college students say, it was time to bullshit.

 

Shimizu looked back at the girl with a cold stare, trying to make herself seem dangerous, intimidating. Bullshitting requires a certain air of confidence. “No, I’m not an angel. But, if I can help you with studying,” she says, “you never tell anyone I was here.” 

The girl nods vigorously, her ponytail bobbing with the motion. “Yes, yes! Oh please Miss, I should really appreciate it!”

Shimizu walked back to the bed and sat down on her soft comforter, peering over the girls shoulder. “Ok, show me.”

The girl immediately went into an explanation of what she knew about the subject, something about genetics and science, many of it somewhat familiar to Shimizu. Her notes are immaculate, color coded, but as she goes on they get slightly messier. She swears she learned some of this during her first year, or last year of high school, but…

“Hey, girl,” she mumbled, ”could I have some of your coffee? I think I remember this, but, um,” she grumbled, nodding towards the cat mug on the dresser.

“Oh! Yes! Of course!” the girl passed her the mug quickly, coffee almost sloshing over the rim. “And um, my name is Yachi. Hitoka Yachi. What’s your, Miss?”

“No names. I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?” Shimizu takes a huge gulp of the coffee, and moans appreciatively. The drink was a nice blend, something exotic and rejuvenating. Hitoka continued explaining the subject, which Shimizu finally recognized as her first year biology class. It was a common course and if you skipped something along the way, nothing else would make sense.

“What’s this?” she pointed at Yachi’s notes. Specifically, a random sentence that was basically illegible. It was a rashly scrawled note, squished along a margin. Yachi brought the notebook close to her face, squinting at the text. Her nose scrunched up and her brows furrowed, and it was incredibly cute. Not just, like, cute cats. No, cute as in kiss me and watch movies with me cute.

“I think it says the….mi..conda…is the power of something?” she mumbles, and squints even harder. “When did I even write this, it’s horrible…”

“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell?” Shimizu suggested, not even really knowing what that was. Between her studying, teleportation, and the stress, she didn't even know left from right at this point. But Yachi let out a huge squawk of glee and squirmed around on the bed, obviously agreeing with her.

“Yes! That’s what I was confused about! How ATP is made, where it goes, and how that impacts the rest of the cell!” she squeals, eyes alight with a new kind of fire, and smiling widely. Yachi laughed and hugged Shimizu, almost knocking her over in the process. “I’m gonna pass now!”

Her eagerness and wide smile, the way her eyes sparkled like amber, brought a smile to Shimizu’s face. “Good job, Yachi,” she said, groggily but happy regardless. The kid was so darn cute, even if kind of ridiculous. Yachi looked up into her eyes, and her face quickly turned beet red. “What? Do I have something on my face?’ Shimizu inquired, because, even though she was going to leave now, and pray that she never meets this girl again, she didn't want to embarrass herself further.

“No! I mean, um,“ Yachi stuttered, jumping back from her and catching the books and notes before they fell off her lap. She mumbled something under her breath, stacking her papers back into a pile.

“Oh, well,” Shimizu awkwardly replied, “if you don't need anything else, I’ll be on my way.” She stood from the bed and turned back to Yachi, holding out the coffee mug. “Thanks for the drink, Hitoka.”

Yachi took the mug, still slightly red in the face, aside from the mark from the slap. The mug had a vague pentagram left on the outside, heavily smudged. ‘When did I buy that cheap of eyeliner’ Shimizu thought before heading to the door. It might take a few minutes, but she could find her way back to her dorm. Hopefully.

“Wait, Miss!” Yachi called out. Shimizu turned around, and saw the young girl clutching the mug close, eyes flittering around her room. “You’re, um, really pretty when you smile. that’s all. And, I won’t tell anyone! Um, obviously.”

Shimizu smiled, a slight warmth tinting her cheeks. “Thanks,” she said, “you’re cute, too. And, I’m sorry for hitting you.” She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like this chapter hat much but I needed to keep this story going. Tried to make it sweeter, cute girls bing cute. Kiyoko is hella gay and so is Yachi, no regrets.  
> Next chapter will be much funnier and have more magic, along with new characters! I'm actually panning this out, holy crap.  
> If you want to be my beta or just send me a nice message, feel free to contact me on my tumblr, http://awkwardlyinnocent.tumblr.com


	3. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the heck is going on? Who was that kid? Why the fuck is Tsukiyama laughing? None of this is is remotely funny, oi, Kiyoko!”

Smudging and Crystals Chapter 3:

 

 

“Kiyoko, I hate to say this, but you are a dumbass,” states the lanky, blond boy sitting across from her at the cheap cafeteria table, and she can’t even dispute his statement. She can dispute the stupidity of his tiny goatee, but before she can even sass him back, another guy with a very small ponytail butts in.

“Hey! That’s my line!” another, slightly shorter, black haired boy yells, pointing accusingly at the other, but quickly deflates. “He’s right though, you should have called us as soon as it happened.”

Shimizu sighs heavily, prodding at her salad with her plastic fork. “I’m sorry, Kageyama, Tsukishima, I was so distracted by the whole thing.” Kageyama, with his tiny ponytail and thin eyebrows, just stares at her harder. “Oh, what do you want me to say, ‘I’m sorry I didn't hex or hypnotize the poor girl to save my ass?”

“Well, no, but-“ Kageyama interjects.

“Eat your shitty pizza, what’s done is done,” Tsukishima cuts him off, earning him an angry glare, but Kageyama does keep eating his pizza. Shimizu is grateful, really, and keeps munching on her salad.

 

Turns out Yachi’s dorm was one floor below her own, so it only took a short elevator trip to get back and throw herself into bed. Unfortunately, she didn't let Kageyama know about the incident, so he stayed up most of the night, waiting for her to appear in his room. He got about two hours of sleep, maybe, because Tsukishima forced him to go to bed. They took all their finals separately, until about lunchtime, when Kiyoko finally managed to send Kageyama a text letting him know she was alright, and she could explain everything at dinner.

 

So, over expensive salads and greasy pizza, she told them the story. Her horrible casting, the human girl, and her very dumb excuses to keep her off her tail. And there they were, all their official finals done and backs in pain from crappy plastic chairs all day long.

 

“So, I know it’s over, but are you _sure_ she isn’t gonna tell anyone?” Kageyama asks, again, because he just _has_ to double check.

“I’m pretty sure,” Shimizu responds, “She was a really sweet girl, very polite, and I dunno,” she smiles softly, thinking about Yachi’s smile, her rosy cheeks. Wait, thats not why she should trust her. Focus on something more tangible. “I could trust her, you know?” That’s not a real answer but, oh well.

“No, I don't know, because everybody is a dick at some point in their life,” Kageyama barks out, shoving the last of his pizza into his mouth and chewing viciously.

“She thought I was an angel, Kageyama. A legit angel from Heaven.” she replied. “There is no way anyone that pure could break a promise.”

“Half of the school think’s you’re an angel, and most of them are demons,” Tsukishima retorts. Shimizu shoots him a glare, but the truth still stands. The amount of confessions and horrible pickup lines since her enrollment never stops. That’s actually how she met the two: in the beginning of the semester, a boy was being incredibly persistent. Kageyama decided to punch the guy. He got roughed up pretty good until Tsukishima came by and cast a hex on the creep. They both helped heal Kageyama’s wounds, and became fast friends.

“Ah, excuse me ma’am?” Speak of the devil, another one. At least he was being polite at first. Shimizu turned to her right, where a younger boy stood. He was definitely a first year, the sporty type, judging on his jersey. Kinda short, and had incredibly bright orange hair held back with several pastel hair clips.

“What?” Kageyama practically spits in the boy’s face. The kid jumps at his loud voice, and his ears turn bright red.

“I-I’m not talking to you!” the kid stuttered back defiantly, but Kageyama kept going.

“If I can hear you, then you’re talking to me. What’s your name, dumbass, or should I just call you dumbass?”

“Like hell am I gonna tell you now!”

“Shut up!” yelled someone in the crowd, and Tsukishima snickered as both boys scowled in silence, embarrassed.

“Anyway, miss, do you know my friend?” the kid says, much softer. “She keeps looking at you, and says she doesn't know you, but she’s totally lying!”

“Who’s your friend?” Kiyoko responds calmly, flashing him a small, friendly smile. Kageyama looks pissed, eying the boy up and down, but doesn't interject.

“Ah, see, over there!” the boy says vibrantly, pointing across the cafeteria. Shimizu looks over and sees several people she vaguely recognizes from classes, but nobody really rings a bell. “Oh, she’s hiding behind her book now, the one with the penguins on it!”

Sure enough, about four tables away, there’s two small, dainty hands holding up a large hardcover about a foot above the table. Then, the owner peeks her face out from the side. A blond pigtail, and brown eyes, shining in the dim fluorescence light, like tigers eye in the sunlight.

Yachi. Shimizu’s not sure if she should be having a minor breakdown, because she met the girl again, or because _she met the girl again._ She decides to keep her composure, turning back to the boy after Yachi hides behind the penguin book again.

“She says she doesn’t know me, right?” she asks him, just to be sure. She has no reason to be scared if that’s true. Yachi is trying to avoid drawing attention to her, but her friend cant’ really take a hint. Or he is very interested in her personal life, which is actually kind of sweet. Or, he can’t take a hint.

“Yes miss,” he responded, a big smile on his face, as if he is waiting for her to say ‘Yes, I know that girl, bring her forth, let me carry her off into the sunset and marry her under a plethora of roses and starlight.’

 

“I’m sorry, I’ve never seen her before,” Shimizu says instead, and the poor kid’s smile falls, and the blush returns to his face.

“Oh,” he says, “I’m, um, I’m sorry I bothered you, then. H-have a nice day,” he mumbles out, and meekly walks away. Kageyama glares at the guy all the way back, and when he sits down, Tsukishima starts laughing manically.

 

“What? What are you laughing about?” Kageyama deadpans, holding the same glare, not quiet irritated but getting there. Tsukishima is still laughing heavily, holding his stomach, doubling over in his chair. Shimizu ignores them both, and peers over at Yachi again. She has emerged from her penguin shield, and is talking with the boy, wringing her hands as she speaks. Whatever she is pulling, he isn’t really buying it, because he slumps down onto the table, face first, barely missing his plate of food. Yachi starts at the impact, but pats his head reassuringly, smiling weakly. She looks up, sparing another glance at Shimizu across the room, and Shimizu winks at her.

That was a bad idea. Yachi flips out, quickly turning her head away and packing her stuff up. Her friend tries to follow her out, but she is already haphazardly stuffing her papers in her bag as she bolts for the exit.

“Shit,” Shimizu hisses out, and tries to watch Yachi leave the cafeteria, but Kageyama blocks her view, yelling in her face.

“What the heck is going on? Who was that kid? Why the fuck is Tsukishima laughing? None of this is is remotely funny, oi, Kiyoko!” By the time she can look around Kageyama, Yachi and her friend are gone.

“Quiet down you two,” she says sternly, and after a moment they both relax, Tsukishima still snickering every once in a while, then she lowers her voice to a whisper. “That was the girl I was telling you about.”

“Wait, seriously?” Tsukishima says breathlessly, voice hoarse from laughter earlier.

“Yeah, so stop laughing, would you? And Kags,” she continues whispering, “you didn't need to be so mean to that kid, he wasn’t hitting on me or anything.”

“I wasn’t being mean,” he starts to argue back, but Tsukishima interrupts him.

“I agree. Kiyoko, don't be so hard on him.” Shimizu is flabbergasted.

“He called him a dumbass for asking me a question. Twice,” she states. Tsukishima smiles evilly.

“That’s how he flirts.” Kageyama sputters, but the other boy keeps going. “Haven’t you noticed? He gets so flustered, he defaults to being a little shit,” Kageyama is digging in his backpack now, face flushed and seething.

“Dude,” Shimizu blurts, “you’re ace. How the heck do you even know these things. Also, I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m gonna kill her now. She ran out of here as soon as we made eye contact.” Well, as soon as she winked, actually. 

_Why did I do that. Why._

“I use my brain instead of my dick, obviously,” Tsukishima states matter of factly, then picks up his coffee, “Hey, now she won’t tell anyone, like, ever.” he takes a swig, then promptly spits it back into the cup, coughing and hacking.

“Oh no Tsukki, what happened?” Kageyama says sarcastically, attempting to hide his smile, and failing miserably.

“What the fuck did you put in my drink,” Tsukishima snarls at him. “If this is for calling you out, I’m not sorry, and god damn stop calling me that!”

“Oh, would you look at that, it’s eight o’ clock! Time to go!” Kageyama sings, getting up from his chair and grabbing his bag. Shimizu follows suit, and ignoring Tsukishima’s promises of hexing them after their exams as he throws out his drink. She catches up with Kageyama, who shows her a small bottle labeled ‘Wormwood Extract’ before stuffing it back into his backpack. She reaches for the door leading outside, but Kageyama stops her, touching her hand.

“Hey, Kiyoko?” he says, surprisingly soft, but pauses, shuffling his feet slightly. He’s nervous, Shimizu realizes as she looks up at him, and adjusts her hand to hold his. “You look worried. Don’t be. If something does happen, I’ll be there for you. I already ”

“And If he’s not there for you, I will,” Tsukishima interjects, placing a hand on Shimizu’s shoulder. “Not because that kid is gonna do anything, but because I may beat his face in once I find out what was he slipped me.”

Shimizu smiles, relaxing. “You two are so, so stupid.”

“That’s my girl, now come on!” Kageyama shouts, shoving the door open and dragging Shimizu into the darkness. The wind is cold tonight, and one of the lamps leading to the dorms is broken. She can see the stars, the moon, and her breath glows faintly under the lamplight. She’s glad she can hold someone’s hand tonight, to keep her warm and safe.

She selfishly wishes the hand was smaller.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I fucked up. I called Tsukishima, Tsukiyama. The whole damn chapter. I'm, so, so sorry.  
> I lied, there was no magic in this. I'm so, so sorry.  
> New characters! There may be a small romance in the background as I go forward, but it won't distract from the main plot.  
> Fun Fact: Wormwood is a super bitter herb used in all sorts of fictional potions, and is a mild narcotic. Kageyama is not, however, using it to drug his friend, but rather just make his drink taste nasty.
> 
> Next chapter, MAGIC. FOR REAL.
> 
> If you are interested in beta-ing, please message me on my tumblr account! awkwardlyinnocent.tumblr.com


	4. The Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was an Uptown Funk Confidence spell,” Tanaka continues, and Kiyoko stops mid-reach to stare at him, then Noya’s sulking figure. “I’m serious, you’re supposed to chant the chorus after drawing your sigil to charge it. Or, if you cant sing, just play the song-”  
> “That’s cheating”, she cuts in.

In almost no time at all, the three students were at the Sciences building. Not because they used magic, even though Kageyama mumbled how he wished he could have brought his broom to campus. Kiyoko was mulling over her own thoughts as the boys guided her along, not really paying attention, thats all.

Was she thinking about Yachi? No, of course not. She was reliving every excruciatingly embarrassing moment of that entire encounter. Much worse.

Tsukishima opened the door for her and ushered her inside the warm hallway, the fluorescent lights bright and somewhat irritating to her eyes. It was mostly quite apart from the sound of their footsteps and the heater fighting to stay live, echoing through the ducts.

“Well, I guess I gotta go do this final,” she sighs, waving goodbye to the boys and walking down towards the east hallway. Maybe if she hurries, she can-

“Wait!” Kageyama says a bit too loudly, and Kiyoko is confronted with something being shoved in her face. It’s a small black tube, with white writing along the side.

“Is this-” she starts, reaching out to take it from Kageyama. 

“Water-“ He lets go of it a bit early, but she manages to catch it easily. “Shit, sorry, um waterproof, yeah.” He starts walking away, then turns back quickly. “And don't worry, I’ve got my own. It was a buy one, get one free deal. Keep it.”

She smiles, softly, and doesn't really know what to say. So, she walks towards class, eyeliner in hand, feeling just a bit more bold.

 

The science building was probably the best place to hide witchcraft and wizardry classes. Not only was it actually readily equipped with fire extinguishers, but filled with chemicals and equipment. Not necessarily for spell casting, although the bunsen burners were incredibly useful for potion labs. Equipment needed to be stored, and that meant storage closest. Lots of them. So, why not add a few more every floor or so? Nobody, especially humans, would really notice. An extra charm or two helps, of course.

Kiyoko reaches the middle the east hallway, between rooms 150 and 155, and stops in front of a bland wooden door. There are no markings, at least not visible to a passerby. She digs a set of keychains out of her pocket, which includes her dorm key, a few plastic charms, and a small metal pendant. It’s made of silver wires, woven around three small, off-white crystals. The whole thing is barely over an inch long, and when Kiyoko grasps it, it’s with a newfound delicacy.    She holds the pendant against the wooden grain of the door, and counts to three. There isn't much magic, but she feels the door shiver, and the lock clicks open, loud in the empty hallway.

She opens the door, and rushes inside. She’s seen the inscriptions etched inside the doorframe, shining softly, plenty of times. The desks are all stacked neatly against the walls, and the university’s plastic chairs are scattered here and there around the edges of the room. A few chairs are taken by random students, either reading notes and heavy texts or fiddling with their phones. Kiyoko steps quickly access the concrete floor, boots clacking much louder than she would like, towards two men sitting on the ground, side by side, with a bag of chips. The shorter one is wearing a black beanie and a red jacket, while the taller guy with a mostly shaved head is shrugging off his own coat.

“Ah!” the shorter exclaims as soon as Kiyoko drops her bag down. “The goddess has appeared to bless us!” His large brown eyes sparkle, and he takes of his black beanie with a flourish, and in an almost obnoxious voice, “Oh, my lady, how shall I, a humble man, serve you?”

“Noya, could I have a few chips?” she asks quietly, settling down on the floor. Pitching his whole body forward, he quickly shoves the whole bag into her arms, and rocks back, swinging one arm over the other man’s shoulder.

“Tanaka bought them! Ain’t he just the sweetest?”

“You’re only saying that because I helped you dye your stupid hair today,” Tanaka, the taller man says sharply, purposefully reaching down and ruffling Noya’s hair. Kiyoko notices that it has, well, had, a section in the middle dyed purple.

“Anyways, how are you doing? Ready for this?” Tanaka asks, leaning forward excitedly. He’s wearing a tank top that has to be at least two sizes too big, with the way it hangs off his body like that. “What am i thinking, of course you’re ready, you’re always ready!”

“Thanks,” she mumbles and pops a few chips in her mouth before handing them back to Noya so she can unload her backpack. “I need to do a calming chant, if you want in, it could help us both,” she continues, pulling out a lighter and a blue candle.

“Yeah, definitely,” Tanaka replies, and gives Noya an irritated look. “This asshat suggested a shitty confidence talisman he found on the internet. Doesn't work for this shit.” Noya jumps up out of his friend’s lap, shoving his beanie back on his head roughly.

“You didn't even try it,” he grumbles, and walks away to a wall to sit in an uncomfortable chair. He pauses for a second, and then sits backwards, away from the two, as if increasing his tantrum will help his case.

Kiyoko shrugs, and arranges the candle between the two of them. She retrieves the lighter from the floor and reaches out with it, ready to light the candle. “It was an Uptown Funk Confidence spell,” Tanaka continues, and Kiyoko stops mid-reach to stare at him, then Noya’s sulking figure. “I’m serious, you’re supposed to chant the chorus after drawing your sigil to charge it. Or, if you cant sing, just play the song-”

“That’s cheating”, she cuts in.

“I know! Between you and me, I think he probably just wanted to watch Bruno dance again. Boy has a serious thirst.”

“Less gossip, more magic,” she retorts, and lights the candle. They cross their legs, and lay their forearms on their knees, palms up. They both take a deep breath, close their eyes, and Tanaka begins reciting

“Magic, magic, unto me. Hear me now, my soul be free,” he says calmly, inhales slowly.  “Magic, magic, unto me. Hear me now, my soul be free.” He repeats the chant a final time. Once he has finished, and can feel her mind clear up a bit at each inhale, energy gathering at her fingertips light warm sunlight. Once, Tanaka told her that his magic felt like a cool fog floating from his palms to his center. It’s strange to think that power could be anything but warm.

After a minute or two more of releasing tension, Kiyoko can feel her fingers getting just a tad bit too hot, and blows out he candle. She can visibly see Tanaka shivering from the cold of the room and his magic, but once the flame is gone, his eyes snap open and lunges for his discarded jacket.

“Yeesh, h-how d-do you do that for s-so long?” he stutters out, stuffing his body into his jacket as quickly as possible, flailing his arms as he goes.

“You should have stopped, you always overdo it,” she replies, and watches the candle smoke dissipate while flexing her fingers. They’re slightly red at the tip, but mostly stiff.

“I wanna be as good as you, that’s all. If that means freezing my ass off, then that’s what I’ll do!” Tanaka struck a pose, one arm up in a mock pledge of sorts. Noya let out a hoot of laughter as he starts walking back towards them, and Tanaka yells, “my diligence shall not be mocked by a mere peasant!”

 

“Well, this peasant has to scoot,” Noya chuckles, squatting to grab the chips from the floor. “Your professor is here.”

Kiyoko whips her head back towards the front of the room, where a single desk sits in front of whiteboards covering most of the wall. Sure enough, a black woman is writing on the board, her large, gold headwrap blocking part what she has already written. Kiyoko feels a quick burst of air, and Tanaka is giving her the now cooled candle. She thanks him quietly, and packs it back into her backpack.

She looks up and the professor is already walking to the middle of the classroom, her long, green overcoat flowing behind her like a runway model. She then kneels down, and with a large piece of chalk, draws an X shape on the floor, then, about three steps back, a large box surrounding the mark. Several students are standing awkwardly around her, others are trying to look nonchalant by leaning against walls or fiddling with their phones.

“Phones away, please!” the professor says in a commanding tone, turning back from the chalk drawing to switch out the chalk with a clipboard and pencil. The people with phones more or less fling them into their pockets or bags. The fear of Professor McGowan is far greater than cracked phone screen.

“You all know the rules,” she begins again, facing the classroom. “I’ve written the destination on the board. If you are not being tested, do not step within the box. I have Professor Deal waiting for you along with a medic, but that doesn't mean you can screw up. He will text me when the previous student is safe. I’m sure nobody wants to explain how you lost an arm to everyone tomorrow.” Somebody chuckles in the crowd, and McGowan closes her eyes and sighs heavily. “This could take a while, so let’s get started.”

“Aone, Takanobu!” she calls out, and an incredibly tall man steps into the box in one, long stride. He starts copying down the destination, which is really just a classroom a few doors down, onto his hand in permanent marker. 

“Dude has guts, I’ll tell you that.” Tanaka whispers to Kiyoko, “somebody stops and looks at your hands, you’re dead.”

“Not before they pissed their pants,” she whispers back, while Aone walks a bit closer to the board, squinting at the writing. McGowan doesn't even budge. Expected. 

When he finishes, he clasps his hands almost immediately, and his body begins to emit a soft, silvery glow. Then, he begins to fade in and out of this plane, and a few sparks of electricity fly off and around his body. One bolt goes to the edge of the square, and zaps a witch standing far too close on her nose. She squawks and grabs her face, but appears unharmed. Then, Takanobu disappears entirely, leaving behind only a slight singed smell in the air.

Almost immediately, the professor’s phone chimes, interrupting her note taking on the clip board. She glances at the text, then continues writing for a few moments more.

McGowan continues to call students up, alphabetically, and the process is more or less the same. Everyone’s magic, and teleportation, is different, but had to have at least three things to be successful: proper spell casting, a safe magical sphere, and minimal bodily harm. Which basically translates to: get there, don't hurt anyone else, and don't hurt yourself.

Kiyoko already has the eyeliner Kageyama gave her, and the crystal pendant tucked away in her pocket. She has to get back to class somehow. So when McGowan calls her name, she stands up from her spot on the floor a bit too quickly, then remembers to pace herself. Being to eager leads to cockiness, cockiness leads to making mistakes, mistakes lead to smacking really cute humans in the face.

‘Stop that _’_ she tells herself, drawing the pentacle on her palm carefully. She already copied the destination a while ago, but she needs the magic to be fresh, right before casting. She takes a few deep breaths, giving the eyeliner time to dry, and closes her eyes, hoping for success.

Much like yesterday, Kiyoko feels a strong surge of energy engulfing her when she claps her palms together. It spreads along her arms, chest, legs, warm and buzzing. The sounds of nature and life surround her, wind howling as if a hurricane was above, then trickling rivers of water from some faraway forest. She can feel it coming, her feet heating up slightly like stepping on warm asphalt, and the floor drops.

After all she’s been through, separating herself from the physical world is like sinking into a warm bath after a snowstorm, only so much better. There’s nothing yet everything. All her ailments seem to have vanished, even the cold ache on her but from sitting too long on the floor. But, she has to stay focused, so a split second later, the floor comes back, her feet slamming into concrete harshly. She keeps her balance, and her stance, only wobbling slightly to soften the impact on her knees. The magic fades away, leaving her feeling warm, relaxed, but tired.

“Very good, Miss Kiyoko,” says a gruff voice, and she opens her eyes to see Professor Deal, a larger blonde man, sitting at a desk in front of her. He scribbles down something on a large stack of papers, then pulls out another fresh packet. “Probably the best entry I’ve seen all day, you centered perfectly in front of me,” he continues, and taps at a phone on the table, “Not sure if you wanted to butter me up or not, but good job regardless. Anything hurt?” 

To the right of him is a woman in scrubs with a large kit sitting nonchalantly, seemly bored out of her mind. Kiyoko flexes her toes, and oh. “Um, my feet are a little sore,” she says instead. By sore she means ‘I feel like I’ve walked around an amusement park for ten hours’, but she can easily sleep it off.

“That’s normal, you’re free to go,” he responds, and Kiyoko murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’ before quickly escaping the room. Once she’s in the hallway, she scans it quickly for anyone other than herself, and laughter tumbles out of her mouth.

She laughs hard, long, and loud, and jump ups and down, until tears form in her eyes and her feet hurt even more. She can bear it though, as she does a small running leap down the hall back towards McGowan’s class, giggling on her way.

After everything she’s been though, it’s over.

 

Kiyoko grabbed her things from the class, and waited out in the hallway with Noya, who had luckily been in the bathroom while she made a fool of herself. She told him about how her feet and knees hurt a bit, and how when you enter back from the plane, it kind of throws you out. Violently.

“My mom said that one time, almost broke her ankle dropping into the kitchen,” he told her, rubbing her knees softly to relive tension.

“Which one?”

“The smart one, surprisingly,” he chuckled, and moved to the next knee. Noya’s mothers’ were witches, but he was adopted, and had very little connection with magic. So, he gets to hang around witches and warlocks alike, see them cast, everything. Honestly has a better understanding of the theories of casting than a lot of other magic folk, such as Tanaka, who chose right then to come running down the hallway shirtless, yowling excitedly. In the middle of his teleportation, his oversized and, apparently, very cheap tank top ripped in half and was left behind in the original classroom. Despite Professor Deal’s scandalized expression, he was only marked down a few points and told to “Buy better clothes.”

“I’m gonna frame this,” Tanaka says as he holds up the remaining shreds of the top on their walk back to the dorms, “It’s gotta have a frame, and a plaque. I don't know what it will say, but it will be awesome.”

“You want a memory of your failure?” Noya jabs, smiling devilish as Tanaka pouts and grumbles loudly.

“You did just fine,” Kiyoko says softly, and smiles again as Tanaka starts rambling on about ‘how amazing it is to be praised by Miss Kiyoko herself, the master of all magic, this moment should be recorded in history upon the plaque’, until Noya just rips the shirt out of his hands and throws it in the trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost two months since the last update, and I am so sorry. A bunch of things have been happening, and I kept procrastinating. Like a turd.  
> Side note, yesterday, March 3, was Tanaka's birthday! Happy late birthday present to him, he gets a ripped shirt.  
> Just kidding, here's his mini bio:  
> 2nd year, 21, Wind Warlock. Always wearing tank tops and has a shitty sunburn most of the time. He will eat all the pop tarts, and is always in awe of Kiyoko’s beauty but knows she is hella gay and respects that. Ends up being like the cool aunt who tells her she is pretty af and that she needs to get some ass, but when someone makes a move he punches them in the face.
> 
> I would say when the next chapter is, but I honestly have no idea. If you want more updates, follow me on my tumblr, http://awkwardlyinnocent.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing a female-femal fic, hopefully it doesn't turn out to bad? There will be more chapters posted later once I actually like them and have a beta. Comment below, tell me what you think and what i should fix!
> 
> If you are interested in beta-ing, please message me on my tumblr account! awkwardlyinnocent.tumblr.com


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